


Something There

by TWDObsessive



Series: Leedus Series [1]
Category: The Walking Dead RPF
Genre: Affection, Emotions, First Kiss, I don't know how to write British so I just used the word bloody a lot, I refuse to believe there isn't anything there, Inspired by a certain photo shoot, Leedus, M/M, RPF, Rickyl, There has to be, There is something there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 09:41:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4517046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norman and Andy enjoy drinks together at a quiet table in Costa Rica as they chatter about things like the recent photo shoot.  Feelings happen.  And stuff and thangs.  Not all thangs... But just some thangs...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skarlatha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skarlatha/gifts).



> After lamenting that I hadn't posted anything lately, my new bestie, Skarlatha, sent me this-
> 
> WRITE ME A ONE-SHOT. *pokes you* If you're cool with writing Leedus, write me a fic based on what you said above: "I'm seriously finding it hard to believe that there's never been a moment with them together and alone, maybe a bit tipsy, where their gazes lingered too long and kisses were exchanged or SOMETHING!"
> 
> Well, inspiration occurred and voila! This is unbeta'd, FYI. Apologies in advance for errors! Also- it's my first ever RPF.

Andrew felt a connection to Norman from day one. Their first day on set together the guy just oozed raw talent and sheer love of life. He had no pretenses. No insecurities. But at the same time was modest, humble and sincere. It was clear he'd work hard to make something amazing of this unique little zombie show. They'd all read the script and had high hopes, but realistic expectations. Andrew was the lead and it was clear from the beginning that any supporting actors and actresses could go at any time. By the end of the first day shooting with Norman, Andrew was praying for Daryl Dixon to live forever.

Norman still had the excitement running through his veins. After losing the part of Merle, he scored a role created especially for him. He'd started to worry about ever being able to act again. Which was fine. He'd be just as happy being a hermit somewhere in the west village with Mingus and some cats. Taking photographs. Making art. But he was happy that things went the way they did. He clicked quickly with the other actors and felt an instant kinship with the show's lead.

The thing is, neither man could remember a time before they'd become close. Life before the Walking Dead was forgettable. And life after was a series of still shots that they both had ingrained in their thoughts. Memories that made both of them grin and chuckle when they were apart. Being apart though, was surprisingly infrequent. They traveled together. Ate together. Went out together. They booked interviews together, did photo shoots together and when they weren't together, they were usually talking about each other. Or talking on the phone. They'd become best friends during the five seasons of filming and were nearly inseparable. They joked on set and laughed til they cried. But when it was time to focus and get the job done, they did it with a ferocity that directors and producers would kill for.

The show had developed a strong following. More than any of them could have hoped for. And Norman and Andrew had won awards and gotten a lot of recognition for their roles. They were fan favorites and life had turned into a series of crowds and camera flashes. They gained a lot of attention for the intensity of their scenes together, their acting abilities and the chemistry their characters had on the show. 

They sat together at a small table in Costa Rica, both of them drinking whiskey. They were fairly off the grid, though they had paused for fan photos on the beach with Steven earlier. But the day faded into just the two of them tucked away unnoticed in a corner. Both had gotten fairly well-buzzed while they sat just chattering and laughing. 

Norman flipped through his phone, took a selfie and then started texting someone. "Why are you always on that bloody thing?" Andrew asked. 

"I like being alive in the world, Andy. It's a big world out there. This connects us."

Andrew pulled out his flip phone and Norman laughed. "I can't believe you still have a phone like that. Surprised it ain't plugged into the wall with a rotary dial on it." 

The waitress stopped by and Andy motioned for another round. 

"Really, Andy? I think you've almost hit your limit," the older man said.

"Fuck you. I got just as much tolerance as you do," he responded.

Norman grinned. Thought about their little on-set gag. They had so many intense scenes where the two had to stand close. To shoot and re-shoot moments where they had to use their expressions and their eyes to speak an inner monologue without words. Sometimes the closeness and the eye contact that the scene required almost seemed like the writers were trying to set the characters up for a potential love interest down the road. Norman would have been fine with that. The affection he had for Lincoln had only multiplied again and again after every season. After every scene. After every fit of laughter. 

During one of those intense scenes, Norman had murmurred "I love you." And Andrew just shook his head. "Fuck you." he said softly before he cracked a smile and lost his concentration. They'd repeated that little joke during more of their powerful one-on-one scenes than not.

Norman's phone rang in his hand as he looked at it. A photo of the two of them hugging between takes popped on to the screen and the caller ID said "Andy". The older man glanced up at a giggling Andy who had the archaic flip phone to his ear. "Talk to MEEE," he wined, clearly on his way to drunk. Reedus rolled his eyes and hung up on him so he could pull up his Twitter account. He turned the phone to Andrew, who squinted at it like it was a completely foreign object he's never seen before. 

"It's from that photo shoot. The hand holding," Norman said giggling. Andrew rolled his eyes. "You shit. You said no one would see it." 

"Everyone sees everything. You'd know that if you had an iphone."

"Why does anyone care about that anyway?" Andrew asked. 

The older man snorted as he gulped at his whiskey. "Christ, Andy. You know there is like a whole fanbase out there that writes and draws nothing but Rickyl?"

"What the hell is a Rickyl?" 

"It's us, dumbass. Rick and Daryl. As like a couple." He started flipping through his precious iphone again. "There's a website for this fan fiction. You gotta read some of this shit man..."

"Fan fiction?" 

"Yeah, One of these stories is like 127,000 words long. It's like novel length. Here," he pointed to his phone. Shadows Where I Stand, by someone called Skarlatha. I totally read it. It was fucking awesome. Good sex scenes. Lots a' angst."

"Why are you reading fiction that's about us doing it?" Andy laughed.

"'S fun. Oh, this one is about me trying to get you blown so you stop stressing out. Couldn't find anyone to do it so I did it myself. Hilarious." Norman smiled to himself, shaking his head as he scrolled.

Andrew poured the rest of his whiskey down his throat and motioned to a waitress to bring him another. 

"Andy, man, you are going to end up on your ass if you keep drinking like that." 

The younger man shrugged. "We're on vacation. I'm supposed to end up on my ass." Norman smiled and emptied his glass as two more were dropped off at the table. 

"You should see Tumblr since that photo shoot," Norman laughed.

"You do know that I have no idea what that is, right?"

Norman winked at Andrew. "Their calling us Leedus. Like our couple name- Lincoln and Reedus."

"I only get a bloody "L". That doesn't seem fair."

"Yeah, but your name's first."

After a moment of silence, Andy staring into space and Norman staring into his phone, Andy said, "Not like it's the first time you've grabbed my ass. Or my hand!" He was finally starting to slur some of the words together. But he was right, it hadn't been the first time. But it was always in jest. Joking. Camaraderie. Norman was touchy by nature. He licked and kissed and touched every last one of the cast members and most of the crew. But Andrew was definitely the one who got the most of it. 

Andrew had become incredibly comfortable with his best friend's affection. Started wanting it, even. He threw the rest of the whiskey back and grinned at Norman. People had told him that they thought the man had a bit of a crush on him and it never unnerved him. Never made him feel awkward or uncomfortable. Never made him pull his hand away or peel away from hugs ungratefully. Norman was a big huger. And Andrew had grown very accustomed to their embraces. He found them comforting. Made him smile. Feel warm all over. Was just nice.

Once Andrew's head dropped to the table, Norman knew the night was over. As much as the younger man likes to think he's as bad-ass as Norman, he's really rather domesticated and not much for going out to party. Unless Norman was there. Those were the only times he really went out.

"Hey, darlin'," Norman joked, "You need a bed. I can't carry your heavy ass all the way to the hotel, let's get going." He stood, laid down a couple hundreds and propped Andy up with his arm. The younger man didn't fight it. He was fucked up and the beach they were on had just started to spin. 

"You don't think I can hold my liquor. I can hold my liquor. I'm Rick Fucking Grimes," he muttered.

"No your not," Norman said, "Your Andrew fucking Clutterbuck and you're a total dweeb."

As they walked into the hotel and stood waiting for a elevator, Andrew said "Naw... check your world wide web," he said, pointing to the cell in Norman's other hand. "I was sexiest most wanted on, like, Glamour Magazine or some shit," he said, fumbling his words around.

"How would you know? You never read that shit." Norman grinned at him. He liked to see him show interest in himself like this. The guy never even watched an episode of the Walking Dead! He was so disinterested in seeing himself. Daryl liked seeing himself and watching himself. But even more than that, he liked seeing and watching Andy.

"Someone, like, told me," Andy mumbled. "'parently old dudes that need a bath are a thing now."

They were alone in the elevator. As the floors beeped by, Norman and Andrew looked at each other. A quiet mesmerizing glance that they've shared quite a bit and with more frequency lately. Norman leaned over and licked Andy's cheek.

"Why?" Andy muttered, wiping the slobber off. 

"No reason. I lick everybody. You know that."

"You lick me the most of all." Andy slurred. 

"You keeping track?" Norman asked playfully.

At their floor, Norman helped guide an unsteady Andy to his room, propped him up against the wall and reached into the other man's pocket feeling for the room key. 

"Hey, Norm. You know what you'd probably be good at since you like licking everything?" Andy asked playfully. Norman's eyes shifted to his and he pulled out the room key. 

"Sober up, Andy. I'll lick whatever you want tomorrow." Norman said it as the playful joke that everything always was, but he suddenly felt surprisingly not jokey. He felt sincere. He wanted to spend more time with his best friend, but the guy was so fucking wasted. Norman's played some wild pranks on this man, but he would never do anything crazy with Andrew so intoxicated. Admittedly though, it wasn't the first time he'd thought about licking other things for the guy. 

The older man kicked the door open then guided Andy inside, keeping himself at the door. "You can make it to the bed, right?" he asked. 

Andrew stood, focusing on steadying himself, then caught Norm's eyes with his gaze and held them. Neither moved. Neither felt uncomfortable. It was almost like a Rick and Daryl scene. Standing closer than normal and speaking through eye contact. The soft affectionate look in Andrew's eyes made Norman relax and he spoke without thinking like he sometimes tended to. "I love you."

Andrew was drunk, but not unaware. He'd stood this close to Norman a million times. Heard the man say "I love you," hundreds. But he never, not once, ever did it without being in a scene. Not like this, with this passionate intensity. Drunk as he was, Andrew was aware they weren't on camera. This wasn't a Rick/Daryl moment. This was a Norman/Andy moment. And Norman could be as serious as he could be silly. And this was Daryl's serious face. Andy knew it. Knew all his faces. 

"I gotta go," Norman said, but made no move to leave. Andy licked his lips and leaned in the few inches to bring their closeness together to a soft kiss. He pressed his lips to Norman's with an unexplainable combination of hesitance and urgency. Norman didn't startle a bit. He stayed perfectly still. 

Andy moaned into him as their lips fell into rythym, moving slowly like the ebb and flow of the tide on the Costa Rican beach below them. 

Andy had a hand on Norman's waist, steadying himself. And Norman raked a hand through the other man's thick wavy hair. 

Norman pulled back and Andy nearly fell into him trying to keep his lips latched on.

"Go to bed, Andy. We're drunk. I'll meet ya for breakfast tomorrow like usual. 

"Hey, Norm?" Andy said quietly, as the younger man backed out the door. "I love you, too."

"I know," Norman smiled. "See ya tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning after Norman and Andrew's first kiss...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you who may have wanted actual real smut, I'm sorry! I couldn't do it! LOL! (But I have plenty of Rickyl smut in my other stories!)
> 
> To those of you who wanted me to keep it tasteful since it's RPF, hopefully I did...sorta.
> 
> Warning- unbeta'd!

Norman wasn't worried about the night before with Andy. They hadn't kissed before so that was new. But he didn't feel awkward about it and he wasn't a bit concerned over any reaction his best friend would have today. 

They exchanged very sincere "I love you's" the night before, too. And again, Norman felt not a single twinge of nerves over how this might change things. Really, they both had long known they loved each other already. They hadn't needed to wait on words to know that. It was as fact as water is wet and Andy's eyes are blue. Nothing would change.

He laid in bed staring at the ceiling, his mind filled with arbitrary thoughts of him and Andy. Nothing sexual. Just affectionate thoughts. It felt good to think and feel about his affection for Andrew. As he bit on a hangnail, there was a knock on his door. Andy. It would be Andy because it was always Andy.

Norman climbed out of bed and answered the door in just his boxers like he always did. Andrew brushed in past him, still wearing the same shirt and shorts from yesterday, trying to squeeze the hangover away by compressing his head in his hands like a vice. He walked straight to the bed and collapsed on it.

"I'm dying," he moaned.

Norman grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and dug in his duffle for the Tylenol.

"I think you'll be fine, lover." Norman said, using the pet name they've both used dozens of times. 

"No. Serious this time. It's not a hangover. I think...I think it might be a tumor," Andrew groaned.

"It's not a tumor," Norman said imitating Arnold Schwarzenegger from a line in an old movie. "Sit up. Water. Tylenol. Then you can tell me all about how you're gonna die."

The younger man followed his instructions and swallowed three Tylenol with most of the bottle of water and then curled back up into Norm's bed in the fetal position with his hands grabbing so hard at his head that muscles popped in his biceps. Norman laid back down, stretched out beside him. 

"We still going four-wheeling today?" The older man asked.

"Four-wheeling?" Andrew gasped, "Fuck no, we're going to the bloody hospital. I need brain surgery."

"Mhm," Norm murmured. Of course they'd go four wheeling. Andrew always did want Norman wanted. The older man turned on his side and used his hands to vice onto Andy's head. And Andrew let his own hands drop away as he groaned. "Surgery ain't gonna fix what's wrong with your brain. I told you ten times to stop drinking last night."

The Brit leaned into Norman's hands groaning again at the feel of Norm's fingers massaging into his temples.

"You puke yet?"

"Don't say 'yet'. I'm not a damn college kid that has to vomit after every night of..." As Andy spoke, Norman reached behind him to grab the trash can then leaned over the younger man's body to put it by him. Almost as if they were steps in an eloquent dance, Andrew rolled over and brought up half a bottle of whiskey and probably all the seafood he ate for dinner. 

Norm rubbed his back through all the wretching. After it stopped Andrew whined, "Awwww man."

"What 's it?" 

Andy rolled back over towards Norm. "Did we kiss last night? On the mouth?"

"Yup."

"God damnit. I, like, barely remember it. It's like I missed it."

Norman shrugged. "Can just kiss you again," he said casually with a smirk already moving to Andy.

"No! I taste like vomit!" He yelled.

" I don't mind," the older man said. And he didn't, Andrew thought. Not a man who licks people who've been on set sweating like pigs in the hot Georgia sun all day.

"I can't even stand the taste of my own mouth, Norm," the younger man said, crawling out of bed. "'M usin' your toothbrush. 

"K." Norman watched as the younger man brushed his teeth with ferocity. Then used the hotel brand mouthwash twice to rinse.

Andrew stumbled back over and fell back into bed. Norman was stretched back out on the bed, arms confidently folded behind his head.

"Ok, do it," the younger man said once he was curled up back in the bed.

"Was a little more organic last night," the older man laughed. 

"Well, get Zen or whatever you need to do," Andrew teased.

Norman propped up on an elbow and without hesitation leaned in close to his friend. "We could do this for the TV guide shoot next week," he grinned.

Andrew pushed at him. "Don't gotta show the world every damn thing, Reedus." And then after a lengthy gaze Andrew moved forward and planted his lips on the older man, parting them instantly. Norm tasted like cigarettes and whiskey and friendship. Andrew wasn't a smoker. Didn't really like it, but the smell of the cigarettes Norm smoked, the taste of them, was so 'Norman' that it felt like home.

As Andrew expected, Norm licked into him with his tongue and the younger man mmm'd around it. 

As Norman backed away, he licked his lips, "You taste like toothpaste and vomit. I like it."

"I don't still taste like vomit!"

Norman raised his eye brows as if to say 'oh yah you do'. "Your headache gone yet?" 

Andrew laid back down and thought about it. "No," he pouted.

Norman put his fingers back to Andy's temples. "Close your eyes a bit."

When Andrew woke, drool sticking from his mouth to the pillow, he looked over at Norm who was tapping into his phone.

Norm held up his phone and showed him a picture, Andy asleep drooling.

"Do NOT put that on your Twitterbook," he said sternly.

Norm smiled deviously then said, "Nah, don't worry. That one's just for me." He looked back to Andy. "Headache gone?"

"Yah."

"Good," Norman said, patting him on the belly. "Let's go four-wheelin'".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking I may update here whenever there is interesting Leedus interviews or sightings....
> 
> Would love to hear if you all think this is ok. I feel like RFP is a delicate line!

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm going to shamelessly beg for comments because I've never done RPF before and want to know if this is creepy and if I should stop! :-)
> 
> Or you can just share comments about that kick ass photo shoot because I love hearing about it!!!


End file.
